


Oh-Oh-Oh, Devour Me

by FereldenTurnip



Series: Nicky's Oral Fixation [2]
Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Fingering, Crusades Era Joe | Yusuf al-Kaysani & Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, Deepthroating, Double Penetration in Two Holes, Established Relationship, Finger Sucking, Fluff and Smut, Hair-pulling, Hand & Finger Kink, M/M, Nicky's fav exercise is fellatio, Oral Fixation, Porn with Feelings, Safe Sane and Consensual, Subspace, sexual awakenings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:35:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28081020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FereldenTurnip/pseuds/FereldenTurnip
Summary: Nicolò watches Yusuf diligently dip his quill in little glass jars, fingers wrapped precisely around the feather stem. Those fingers…They’re so long and dexterous. He gulps, unable to keep his eyes from tracking him nor his mouth from watering at the sight of his hands.Nicolò wants to worship those fingers--somehow, any which way he can have them. He feels awakened like never before...
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Series: Nicky's Oral Fixation [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1943389
Comments: 6
Kudos: 185





	Oh-Oh-Oh, Devour Me

**Author's Note:**

> Not quite his "origin story", but definitely a brand new experience that exacerbates budding Nicky's oral fetish! Based entirely off a gif of Marwan smoking and the whole discord server losing their collective shit over his incredibly long and talented fingers.
> 
> One thing leads to another... 
> 
> (Not beta read, sorry!)

Nicolò stokes the fire in the mud-dubbed hearth, eyes furtively glancing up from the embers now and again.

At the table in the middle of their small cottage, Yusuf sits with all his inks and parchment. He watches the handsome man diligently dip his quill in little glass jars, fingers wrapped precisely around the feather stem. Those fingers…They’re so long and dexterous, as expressive as every other part of Yusuf’s body. They nearly dwarf the utensils as he writes elegant looping scripts in his own language.

Nicolò gulps, unable to keep his eyes from tracking him nor his mouth from watering at the sight of his hands. He feels heat all along his body, and it's not just the fire along his left flank. It's tingling on his lips, flushing his face red. Down his body, peaking his two nipples and…between his own legs. Warmth pools in his guts and hips. If he rocks back, the seam of his sleep trousers rides between his cheeks and strokes deliciously across his entrance. Nicolò's needy member twitches in time with Yusuf's twiddling fingers.

He wants them--somehow, any which way he can have them.

Their camaraderie is no new thing. It's been nearly three decades since that fateful day outside Jerusalem. Their friendship was a slow thing to blossom. Like an olive tree, it took patience and careful nurturing for it to bear fruit. The two men grew closer, thicker than thieves in some (literal) instances. Nicolò knows every detail of Yusuf's kind face, from the lines on his forehead to the dimples in his cheeks. The secrets of his lithe and powerful body beneath all his clothes were a mystery begging for exploration.

Until recently, that is.

While their friendship was a tentative journey, a road paved with pitfalls, their romantic relationship came quite suddenly like a lighting storm. The buildup was static ozone on their tongues, lingering in their platonic touches and turning their stares hungry.

The act of making love is ferocious and exhilarating, awesome and encompassing. So new it often moves them to tears. Or growls or laughter or shouting. No matter what, underneath all that carnal passion is the steady thrum of love beating an eternal tattoo inside their souls. There is no Nicolò without Yusuf.

Every blessed day is another spent surprised by what they can rouse in the other (for instance, that morning Nicolò jokingly spanked Yusuf’s bottom to get him moving--how it immediately woke the two of them up and got them messy real quick).

Tonight, with the shutters pulled shut and the lamps lit low, it seems like one of those instances. All Nico can see are Yusuf's hands, his lovely fingers. And he desperately wants them.

The longer Nicolò stares at them, the more the muscle in his jaw twitches. How would they feel with his lips wrapped around them? Nestled over Nicolò's tongue and massaging down his throat. They're so long, they could find the soft center of Nicolò's voice and stroke the moans right out of him. The thought alone nearly strangles a squeak out of him. Nicolò bites his cheek, hard, wondering what other holes those fingers can play with.

Yusuf strikes up a sudden hum, a song heard around the market this morning. It startles Nicolò out of his dreams and has him turning so fast back to the hearth that his neck actually hurts. Yes! The fire! The cauldron! He fumbles for another log, hoping to entice the flames higher to heat the pot of water. It's taking forever.

_Would it take forever for those fingers to coax you open?_

Nicolò chokes and tries to cover it with a weak cough.

Yusuf pauses his little ditty. He feels the weight of eyes on the back of his neck. "You alright over there, Nico?" Yusuf asks, concern muffled from where he's hunched over his papers.

"Q-Quite fine," Nico says, checking the pot. No, still no bubbles. He fiddles with the lid, zoning out as his own fingers stroke the thin metal handle. A touch mimicking something else. Yusuf's fingers are so long, they wrap around Nicolò's length, stroking him to a leaking hardness…

All that blood pooling in Nicolò's hips instantly funnels straight into his cock. His linen trousers tent with the weight of his growing erection. On his knees, it's impossible not to shroud his excitement. Does he even want to hide? He rubs his sweaty palms on his thighs and splays them ever-so-slightly. Enough to make it obvious.

Behind him he hears a sharp inhale, followed by a deep chuckle. The chair Yusuf is sitting in scrapes against the beaten floorboard.

"Yes," Yusuf purrs, "you're obviously _quite fine_ indeed!"

It sounds like molten gold in Nicolò's ear and he closes his eyes to hear it-- _feel_ it--wrap around him. Will the sounds of Yusuf's voice alone ever stale? His rumbling tones are deep like port wine, yet soft as silk. Even if they live for an eternity, Nicolò knows his bones will never tire hearing his love speak.

_His love_.

Yusuf is the energy that compels Nicolò's heart to beat. Every facet of this lovely man is enough to excite him--his smile, his ears, the kindness in his eyes, all and more. So evident is Nicolò’s love for Yusuf, he’s gone impossibly hard just thinking about ten long fingers.

Said fingers are so beautiful, so graceful! Nicolò stares at his own: wide palms and stubby finger tips. It's not that Nicolò hates them, merely these are a workman's hands. They can't spin breathtaking art out of nothing, not like Yusuf can. He's sure the other would disagree.

Compliments come easily to Yusuf, as naturally as his love for Nicolò. Generous, fervent words whispered with compassion and affection. Enough to make Nicolò blush or grin or kiss him. Or all three.

Yusuf's love beckons Nicolò to sink to his knees and _worship_ him properly.

Well, he's already in position…Nicolò clenches his fists and twists around fully to stare at Yusuf.

The other is stroking his inky-black beard (and Nicolò ogles agile fingers toying and teasing each curl), his smile splitting the fine hairs to show off pearly-white teeth. Beautiful smile--Nicolò wants to lick it, suck it off his face. Yusuf blinks at the sheer force of Nicolò’s longing glances. Perceptive as a hawk, Yusuf’s eyes darken and re-examine Nicolò’s purposeful prostration. Drinking in the sight of him, Yusuf widens his legs until he's practically poured across his chair like a king in his throne. Splayed and sprawling regally. His robe splits down the middle and reveals an answering bulge.

Nicolò licks his lips, yearning.

Want gnaws at his insides. Forgetting the fire entirely, Nicolò painstakingly crawls forward on hands and knees. Yusuf’s grin falters, chest hitching as his lungs stutter. One of those fingers dips to run across a plump, pink lip. Yusuf's bottom teeth are delightfully crooked.

Absurd. Nicolò craves even more.

An impulse to run his tongue across all three spikes--to lap at fingers, lips, and teeth. He needs it so badly he moans, loud and desperate. He reaches Yusuf's ankles and shivers from the heat emanating from his love--more so than the fire at Nicolò's back. Yusuf spreads his legs even wider to accommodate Nicolò's broad shoulders.

Nicolò fondles his slim ankles, teasing the skin above the slippers. A muscle jumps. Nicolò squeezes it until Yusuf's mouth drops with a silent gasp. The glow from the lamps paint his tawny skin golden, enhancing the mild shadows beneath his pinched brows. The light collects in Yusuf's beautiful eyes, brown like darkened hickory nuts and warm with lust for his lover.

_If I could look upon no other for the rest of my days, I would live for an eternity as a happy man._ Another voice inside his head, one that sounds humorously like Yusuf, adds something about ‘plucking out one’s eyes and gifting it to the other’. Nicolò runs his lips over Yusuf's knee, kissing him while he stares up in awe. His wonderful poet.

"To what do I owe the honor of your wantonness tonight, dear one?" Yusuf breathes raggedly. His hand slips from his beard and down the length of his hard body. Nicolò intensely watches his neat fingernails snag on the folds of his yellow night robe. They make their descent and traverse the corded muscle of Yusuf's thigh until they reach Nicolò's face.

At the first touch of his hand, Nicolò squeezes his eyes shut and groans. Four points of scorching heat trail his cheekbone. Nicolò leans heavily into them, gripping Yusuf's delicate wrist so he can press wet kisses to his palm. He feels sword calluses at the base of those fingers, raised on the fleshy bits of the palm between the life lines. Nicolò snuffles and flicks his tongue against them. As he nips the sensitive skin, Yusuf's fingers flutter across his temple.

He tastes salt and turmeric mixed with oil.

The heat in Nicolò's belly flares at the flavour. He rears up onto his knees and, with both hands, seals Yusuf's palm to his face. His cock throbs with his burgeoning libido. It's not enough! He can never get enough of Yusuf! Why can't he crawl inside his chest like all his little poems detail--make his home inside of Yusuf's soul until they become one and the same?

"N-Nicolò!" Yusuf sighs, body lurching forward to wrap himself around Nicolò in a clasping embrace. His breaths leave in hot, fast puffs that stir Nicolò's long hair. "What do you want from me? Say it and I will gladly grant you anything!"

"These!" Nicolò moans, eyes damp. He kisses Yusuf's fingers in emphasis.

Yusuf's hard cock presses into Nicolò's sternum, a heavy rod directly over his heart. He rubs his chest against it just to hear Yusuf's voice catch, to encourage him to undulate against Nicolò. Watching Yusuf surrender to carnality is a gift that keeps on giving.

"My hands? You want my hands, my moon?" He sounds absolutely wrecked.

Nicolò hisses, "Yesss," mouthing and tonguing the webbing of his fingers. The ink stains are bitter, but nevertheless Nicolò starves for it. He wants nothing more than to swallow each digit one-by-one until his mouth protests and his throat gags. The need is so bad even the gums around this teeth _itch_.

This close and Nicolò can _smell_ his lover's scent--his unique scent seeps through his clothing and wafts around Nicolò like intoxicating vapors, dazing and blinding him to the outside world. He is completely surrounded by _Yusuf_. Honey and spice, parchment and ink. His mouth waters from the musk emanating from Yusuf's crotch. Is he thinking about this morning when Nicolò woke him for prayers by sucking him down? He remembers Yusuf involuntarily pumping his hips in his sleep, filling Nicolò’s mouth so deep with his member that he squished his nose with his grinding. The first pulse of thick, bitter seed that dashed across Nicolò's tongue lingered at the back of his palate all day. His scalp still flares from the exquisite feeling of fingers gathering his long hair and pulling. Yusuf had twisted those strands, woven them around his fingers like yarn on a loom--tight and impossible to unravel.

Nicolò's mouth fills with drool and every fiber of his being begs for that sweet rapture again. His own hips rabbit against Yusuf's leg, rubbing his erection against his shin like some common back-alley whore.

"Please Yusuf, please! I feel so…I-I am so very--" he winces, unable to describe how hollow his body feels right now.

But Yusuf, such a clever man, deduces correctly from Nicolò’s frantic, pleading expression, "Shh! Hush!" He caresses Nicolò, petting his hair and shushing him with a kiss to his sweaty forehead. "You feel empty, yes?"

Nicolò nods shakily, sucking at the fleshy base of Yusuf's thumb. Yusuf shivers, his erection twitching against Nicolò’s chest.

"Then let me fill you," he whispers.

Yusuf's name tumbles out of his lips, a waterfall of gushing need. He's still holding fast to Yusuf's arm, so he uses the line to tug him closer. _Can the sun truly neglect the field when it rises so assuredly in the east?_ Nicolò stares up at Yusuf, basking in his presence as if he were a sunflower. He takes Yusuf's hand and presses it over his mouth and chin, sucking at the center of his palm.

"I am so sorry, love," Yusuf inhales sharply, kissing the fire blossoming across Nicolò's face. He shakes his head, not understanding the apology. Yusuf elaborates, "For forgetting you, Nico. I was so consumed with my project that neglected you."

Nicolò huffs a small laugh, moist air dampening Yusuf's palm. "Impossible," he rubs his face into Yusuf's hand. How like a dog, needy for affection, must Nicolò be. His cock leaks, staining his trousers even further. _More like a bitch in heat._

"'Neglect' is not a word I use for you, my heart," Nicolò sighs, throwing his head back when Yusuf's foot comes up to gently nudge his balls.

"I _will_ rectify this," Yusuf intones, his other hand releasing its clutch on Nicolò's shoulder to cup the back of his neck. Nicolò instinctively goes pliant beneath his firm touch. He knows his lidded green eyes are beseeching, knows his mouth gapes open in invitation. He gargles a reedy moan when the pads of those fingers swirl over Nicolò's tingling and buzzing lips.

Yusuf smothers them, fingers pulling his bottom lip down to dip into the spit pooled over his wiggling tongue. The pressure alone makes Nicolò's eyes flutter. His hands shakily cup Yusuf's elbow and hip. The rest of his body melts.

When Yusuf _finally_ sinks his fingers--two of them at once!--into his awaiting mouth, Nicolò nearly cries with relief.

His body jerks of its own volition, arcing as lightning often strikes a tall spire. He's on fire, cock thick and straining the ties to his trousers. His world narrows down to the heaviness in his hips and Yusuf's fingers stroking lovingly over the top of his tongue. He latches onto Yusuf and tugs, all but climbing into Yusuf's lap to chase this overwhelming urge of his. Nicolò whines high in his throat when the first knuckle catches the edges of his teeth. Why does this feel so good??

True to his word, Yusuf stuffs his mouth full. Above him, his lover’s breathing turns ragged. The strong hand at the back of Nicolò's neck spasms--grip harsh one second, then softening the next--unsure of his own swelling desire, too.

Nicolò hollows his cheeks and sucks the flavour from Yusuf's skin--citrus from the tangerines they ate earlier, dry powders from mixing his inks, and sweat in between all the swirls. He bobs his head, hungry, lathering them with his tongue as he sucks them like a ripe cock.

"S-slow, Nico," Yusuf stutters. Nicolò looks up at him through dewy lashes. Yusuf’s whole expression is pained and amorous. They’re so close that every dark freckle on his cheeks is a star for Nicolò to map. Full lips are bitten raw and red, Yusuf’s remarkable healing struggling to keep up with the self-inflicted wounds. Pitch-black eyes watch his own fingers disappear around a ring of wanton lips. A third finger twitches the corner of Nicolò's lips with a hesitant need.

_Stop holding back!_ Nicolò attempts to tell him. _I want **you** , Yusuf, all of you! _

And of course Yusuf hears him. Oh Master of Languages, even Nicolò's silent one. He kisses Nicolò’s, his gentleness at odds with the three whole fingers he shoves deep inside him.

If it weren't for the digits crammed down his throat, Nicolò would scream loud enough for their neighbors to hear.

His hair is suddenly fisted close to his scalp. Nicolò is immobilized and at Yusuf’s mercy. He weeps fat tears of joy and whines around those talented fingers.

The ends of Yusuf's knuckles pry his mouth open, letting saliva leak past his stretched lips and down his bare chin in copious rivulets. They're both soaked in no time at all. Nicolò's eyes roll back into his skull as he chokes and gags.

Yusuf gives him no reprieve. Nicolò doesn't want him to.

The sweet-tempered Yusuf of their previous love-making is gone. While no less considerate, Yusuf is brutal in satiating all of Nicolò's hitherto unknown desires, fucking his mouth roughly as if it were his own cock pilfering him. Yusuf coos into his ear, plugging him with long, spindly fingers until he can't draw air. Viciously, he presses down on Nicolò's tongue. Right as he begins seeing stars, Yusuf pulls back.

“Nicolò?” Yusuf questions worriedly, withdrawing his fingers so just the tips hover over his teeth. Meanwhile, Nicolò gulps cool air back into his heaving lungs. He nods against the hand in his hair and whines for more. Already, his licks suck Yusuf back inside to swallow around his second knuckles.

Yusuf chuckles, "Needy little thing!" Nicolò whimpers, tears trailing down his cheeks. He knows Yusuf will give him what he wants, will take care of him. He _trusts_ Yusuf implicitly.

"You are a gorgeous sight, on your knees and begging, Nico," Yusuf rasps, awestruck. A fourth finger edges his mouth and Nicolò's eyes widen. Can he even fit it all? Could Yusuf's whole hand actually rest inside his cavernous mouth? A fresh wave of drool floods and drips down Yusuf's palm.

"Yes, you want this, Nico. I can see it in your eyes--I know you can do it," he praises and Nicolò preens. He'll do _anything_ for Yusuf!

"Please, Nico, let me chase away the emptiness, make you feel so good," kisses litter his face. _Yes, give it to me!_

Yusuf's pinky teases, rubbing through the thick sheen of spit coating his face. It enters his mouth slowly, stretching Nicolò’s lips into a thin, red rim. Nicolò moans brokenly, humping down on the foot rubbing his erection. Yusuf’s exhales, mesmerized, peering down to watch his hand slip snugly inside him. Excitedly, Yusuf scissors his fingers, flattening Nicolò’s tongue and pushing at his cheeks. Nicolò’s teeth are stroked. He teasingly bites the soft digits exploring him.

It’s _Yusuf_ who chokes this time. He fidgets in his chair and promptly pumps his achingly long fingers in and out. The squelch of _all four fingers_ is obscene and goes straight to his cock. The thicker base knuckles knock into his incisors, punishing his lips with each pass. Every time they connect, Yusuf tries to push deeper, tries to get his gagging mouth to accept it all. The tips of Yusuf’s fingers plunge down his throat. Nicolò struggles for air and for a second he believes he can swallow him whole.

It's not long before Nicolò's jaw aches, beating a livid pulse in time with his erection. Mindlessly, Nicolò paws his own hand around, seeking the thick bulge between Yusuf's legs. It’s hot and throbbing under Nicolò’s palm. Yusuf groans loudly and bucks into him.

They set a wild rhythm--hips rocking and seeking friction, Yusuf using Nicolò's willing mouth. He’s so close to losing himself, to letting go completely.

Unexpectedly, Yusuf rips his hand away.

Having been pried open so wide, Nicolò's mouth is unable to shut. Empty, it falls open and leaks dumbly. The foot toeing him to completion swings back and Nicolò's cock protests fiercely.

"Gah!" Nicolò groans, confused and frustrated.

Yusuf pets his sopping face, shushing him sweetly, "My love, I promised to fill you with what you desire." His voice is low and shaking with need. Stopping hurts him just as much as it does Nicolò.

"'ill 'ee?" Nicolò garbles, frowning at Yusuf.

"Yes," Yusuf's eyes glitter, "fill you."

He uses the grip in Nicolò's hair to get him on his feet. It takes a few attempts, Nicolò's legs having gone weak and unsteady. He shakes like a newborn foal, but Yusuf stands and helps, occasionally dipping his fingers in and out of his mouth as a reward. Nicolò is as malleable as clay in his hands. _For_ his hands.

He ends up leaning on the sturdy table with Yusuf pressed against his front. Only two fingers stroke inside his mouth. Yusuf murmurs how good he is. Nicolò blushes and sucks obediently. Both of them are startled by how much they're getting off on this.

"I promised," Yusuf states, "to make you feel good, to fill you and chase the emptiness away."

Nicolò whimpers. He is hard and dripping across his thighs, so close to spilling from Yusuf's words alone. Digging into his stomach is Yusuf's answering excitement.

"So," Yusuf continues evenly, "take off your trousers and get on the table for me."

He’s lucky his mouth is currently occupied, otherwise it'd fall open in shock. Nicolò hastens to follow the command.

Laying on the table like a feast, Nicolò's naked ass hangs over the edge. Yusuf gives him a third finger for him to suckle and pushes one of Nicolò's bare legs all the way up to his chest. The action exposes his most intimate place--his pink, furled entrance open to Yusuf's hot gaze. Those dark eyes blaze a trail across his taint, and Nicolò swears he can feel him, too.

"Hold yourself--yes, like that! Good, Nico, very good."

Nicolò moans, swirling his tongue around each finger tip. He caresses Yusuf's forearm, rubbing from elbow to wrist, unable to keep his hands off all that lovely skin. He scratches lightly at the downy arm hair, knowing full well Yusuf likes it when he does that.

Sure enough, Yusuf's gaze goes half-lidded as gooseflesh rises beneath Nicolò's nails. "That feels so nice," Yusuf whispers adoringly. Inside Nicolò's mouth, his fingers knead the soft flesh of his cheek. Nicolò releases a pleased sound and lazily hooks his other leg over Yusuf's shoulder. It only spreads him wider, Yusuf shuddering where he looms over his hips.

"Got me nice and wet, love?"

Nicolò nods, perking up in anticipation. Yusuf twitches his fingers and he reluctantly lets them go. They take forever to slide out from his throat, working over his curling tongue, and popping past his loose lips. A trail of saliva follows, coating his skin all nice and shiny. Nicolò swipes his tongue along his own puffy, raw lips.

"Nicolò," Yusuf hisses, eyes tracking the movement while his hand descends lower. His wet fingers trace Nicolò's sensitive rim, loosening the muscle with sticky spit. Already relaxed and wanting, he offers hardly any resistance against the oncoming breach.

Nicolò's head cracks against the table, a high-pitched moan escaping him. He was right, Yusuf's fingers are _so_ incredibly long! The digit is _endless_ , pushing inside him, burning his inner walls until, surely, he reaches the back of Nicolò's throat.

With sweat matting his hair to his face and neck, Nicolò pushes back, wanting _more_.

But Yusuf's hand bottoms out after a tedious slide, the press of his palm halting his finger's progression. Nicolò’s rim flutters and Yusuf gasps when he's squeezed. "I had you not even two nights ago," Yusuf says wondrously, "how are you so tight even still?"

Nicolò shakes his head, words escaping him. He could say the same about Yusuf--that every time he enters his love, Yusuf is a vice-grip around his cock that has him spending in no time at all.

Yusuf begins to move, pushing and pulling his finger. He feels so full, even with just the one. Anymore and Nicolò will surely burst. _Oh please, fill me up! Stretch me thin, twist all those lovely fingers inside me until I'm mad from it all!_

Nicolò thrashes as yet another finger squirms past his rim and enters him, dragging just as slowly as the first. It's _delicious_ and Nicolò _loves_ it. How he ever lived so long without taking Yusuf like this is a complete mystery--always preparing himself in a hurry to sink greedily on Yusuf’s cock. Truly, he's been bereft of such a treat. Yusuf snatches the oil he uses for paints and drips a dollop between the vie of Nicolò's open hips. Gradually, his fingers are slippery and it's so much easier to sneak a third inside.

The stretch makes Nicolò _wail_. The sound echoes around their cottage.

"No, oh no, my heart!" Yusuf moans worriedly. His form leans over and drapes him in shadow. All Nicolò can focus on are his startling black eyes, blown wide with lust and love. Yusuf kisses him on his frowning lips, "My love, my sweet, let me--here!"

Now, there's three dry fingers in Nicolò's empty mouth, stoppering the needy sobs but not the pleased noises.

Three in one hole, three in another.

Nicolò is _full_.

With stark clarity, he knows he's _addicted_ \--Nicolò will spend forever staring at Yusuf's hands while he works. Fingers: tying his cloak, dipping into his bowl of stew, twirling his scimitar, holding a pipe, plucking coins, all of it.

Nicolò will watch every action and know exactly what it feels like to have those dexterous fingers spearing him, stretching his orifices wide open. Rocking down on one hand, while swallowing the other. How he'll ever want to leave their bed, gaping and empty, is impossible to fathom.

Yusuf groans, plunging into his body from both ends, gaining enough speed to jostle Nicolò and get the table creaking. He grinds his erection against Nicolò's thigh and feeds him his long, torturous fingers. Nicolò is sick with need, sucking and choking, clenching and grasping around them. Taking inch after inch of Yusuf's hands like they belong buried inside Nicolò.

The sounds of moans, whimpers, and squelches fill the air. Heat builds up inside Nicolò like a pot over flame. A low simmer brought to boil, pleasure coils tightly at the base of his spine and fills his heavy sack. His cock flops with every thrust, completely forgotten and beet-red. He grasps Yusuf's arm to keep him inside his mouth, letting his tongue and lips work a wild frenzy around his fingers. Saliva dribbles down his cheeks, past his ears and into his hair.

Yusuf watches it all with half-mast eyes. His own clever tongue darts down for a taste, seeking Nicolò's stretched lips to land sloppy kisses through the mess they've made together.

“Habibi,” he purrs softly. Then, those fingers inside his ass twists _just right_ , hitting the pleasure spot inside him. Like a fire spitting embers. Nicolò keens loudly around one set of Yusuf's fingers--

\--Then comes clenching around the others.

Yusuf groans against Nicolò's face. He fucks Nicolò through shattering orgasm, fingers nailing that spot again and again, stuffing his throat and choking out his sobbing cries.

Nicolò's mind is a roaring white blank, separated from his bouncing body by the sheer impact of his climax. The world grows hazy and soft--Nicolò feels like he's floating on a lake’s surface. His eyes close and he drifts around the amazing feeling of being full and sated.

Dimly, as if far away, he's aware of a bite to the inside of his knee, to a muffled whine, and a warm, trickling wetness across his thigh and taint.

Then the fullness slips away. His bottom feels open, loose, and his mouth leaks drool. Nicolò whimpers, saddened to have it all go.

"Nico?" He hears through the clouds. Warmth cradles his lax head. Something soft and wiry tickles against his forehead. His arms and legs are gathered, the world shifts, and then he's _actually_ flying. Nicolò numbly holds on to a set of strong shoulders, mouthing the beard buffing his face. _Empty mouth._

Sweet words whispered into his skin, "My love? Can you hear me?"

His body rests on something cool and soft. A mattress. His and Yusuf's bed.

"Yu…suf," Nicolò mumbles. The warmth of his lover never leaves. It feels so good, so right to be cradled back against his chest, arms wrapped tight around him. But he was so full…now he's not. "'m empty," he says pitifully and so unlike himself.

The hand stroking his hair back pauses, then caresses his aching jaw. "More, my heart? Will that help?"

Nicolò licks his puffy lips and turns his leaden head, mouth seeking blindly. A warm chuckle ruffles along his temple, inducing shivers. A kiss sucks at the tender skin of his neck.

"My heart, so insatiable in appetite," two fingers embed themselves inside his wet mouth again and Nicolò croons. _Mmm…so good! Perfect. I love you, Yusuf_. He sucks on the long digits, tonguing them weakly. Then, he simply holds them securely in his mouth. Somehow, it feels more intimate this way.

Sleep is pulling wool over him quickly. Before he goes under, he hears a humorous, "I wonder if this awoken anything in you?" His answer is a slight squeeze around Yusuf’s fingers with his lips.

When Nicolò falls under, he is pleasantly tranquil and fulfilled.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Catch me on tumblr under the same name, or join us in the [All & More server](https://discord.gg/MdhHZBY). I'll serve you a pint in the tavern ;)


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